Sunday, 24 May 2009

Late Night in the Hotel, Weekend One

Late Night in the Hotel, unedited

Night 1

“Why do you think he was like that?”Sorry?“Holden pal, why was he like that?”I, I don’t know.The woman in the pink dress has tried to convince me that I’m going to be nice to her, that she needs a party, that her daughter has cancer, has brain cancer, died 8 months ago. She’s only here for a weekend from abroad, she hasn’t seen her friends for a long time, she needs this party. She lives a long way away. In Paisley. She’s a nurse, a Psychiatric nurse. She’s about 38.Her friend wants to distract me with catcher in the rye. I’ve found her in the nude.I knocked on the door,Unless these unauthorised people leave the building I am going to have to ask you to vacate the room.“Will you give me half an hour?”I’ll give you five minutes.“Aww son don’t be like that.”Five minutes.I wait five minutes.Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock.“What?”I need to come in to check the room now.“But I’m not wearing any knickers.”I tried not to check, but she wasn’t wearing any knickers. She had a black slip on. I didn’t look again.

The Cunt is asleep on the floor on his front drooling into the carpet – I ask him to wake up “Could you wake up Sir. Could you wake up. Could you wake up mate. Could you wake up pal. Wake up. Sit up. Get up. Up. Wake up you shit. Wake up you cunt. Cunt. Cunt. Cunt.”

And then the fire alarm goes off.

The Cunt sleeps on.

Night 2

You held a knife to our eldest’s head.That was you.Fuck was it, it was you.Nah nah.It was five years ago!That was you.You're only free because you made me lie in court.

Polis: could it be argued that he was restraining her, rather than assaulting her?I suppose it could.Polis: thank you. We may need to call you at a later date.Thank you.Polis: have a good night.

Pooka Business

Our principal goal is to be all things to all men. Words. Spittle. Joy above all things. Look, and touch sometimes, all with clean fingers please. Veet for the tongue. Press studs for the abdomen. Gravy for the choir. Banjos for the genitals. Pooka Delaval.

Visions of Delaval(see Pookafield below) is the pictorial side of things. Good stuff.

Hotboxx is a radio show that streams from the heart of the pookasphere, bringing japes aplenty, and fine tunes to boot.

Counter Hive (see Pookafield again) charts the endless undulations over the years of the campaign against the insidious Human Advance (H.A.).